The Golden Boy
by kingdomheartsforevs
Summary: Alfred F. Jones has been locked away in a tower for seventeen years of his life. Every year on July fourth, his birthday, glowing lights slowly float into the sky. A certain Briton may make his wish to see them in person come true. Hetalia/Tangled
1. Prologue: Our Story Begins

_A/N:_

Hullo, everyone. x3

I was actually extremely hesitant to post this story. I don't know what you guys will think of it...

Hopefully this was a good idea.

By the way, I didn't put this into crossovers because 1) this is very loosely based on _Tangled_, even if I almost directly quoted the movie in this prologue. -.-" Many things will have to be sacrificed from the original plot in order for this to work, and 2) I couldn't choose both main characters in the crossover category. -.-"

Rated T because I'm paranoid.

**IMPORTANT UPDATE: **Thanks to a very clever suggestion by a reviewer (thanks, Dr. Stilla Live! :D), Mother Gothel has been replaced by someone even more insane than she is. HAPPY READING ;D

**SUMMARY:** Alfred F. Jones has been locked away in a tower for seventeen years of his life. Every year on July fourth, his birthday – without fail – glowing lights would slowly float into the sky. He can only gaze at them longingly through the window in his secluded tower. But he's never stopped wishing that, one birthday, he could see them _in person_ – and someone might just come into his life who can make that wish come true.

**WARNING: **This story contains yaoi. Otherwise, BL. Otherwise, MALExMALE. Gay action here, people. Don't like, don't read.

**DISCLAIMER:** I, kingdomheartsforevs, in no way, shape, or form, own Hetalia: Axis Powers (©Hidekaz Himaruya) or Tangled (©Disney). If I did, I would be one rich-ass writer...

* * *

><p>Once upon a time…<p>

Nah, that won't work. Uhm.

Oh well. I have writer's block, so let's just start with that.

Once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens, and from this small drop of sun grew a magic, golden flower. It had the ability to heal the sick and injured.

An old woman found it one night, curious about the flower with immense power radiating from its petals. You might want to remember this chick – she's kinda important.

Centuries passed, and a hop, skip, and a boat ride away from the isle of which this magical plant grew, rose a kingdom. This kingdom was ruled by a beloved king and queen.

Said Queen was about to have a baby when she suddenly became sick – _really _sick. She was running out of time, and that's when people _usually _start to look for a miracle.

Or, in this case, a magic, golden flower.

Back to the old lady.

Instead of sharing the sun's gift, this woman – Natalia Arlovskaya – horded it's healing power and used it to keep herself young for _hundreds _of years – and all she had to do was sing a special song.

_Flower gleam and glow._

_Let your power shine._

_Make the clock reverse…_

_Bring back what once was mine…_

_What once was mine._

Alright, you get the gist of this. She sings to it, she becomes young. Yeah, it's creepy.

One night, after she'd sung to it her song, she heard pounding feet and shouting voices. She covered it with a canopy of leaves she'd designed, somehow expecting it to look like a bush.

As she turned to escape the scene, the "bush" was knocked aside by the lantern she carried, leaving the golden flower exposed for all to discover.

Guards from the kingdom across the way were elated to find this flower, and brought it back to their King, where they hoped it would be of use.

The magic of the golden flower healed the Queen.

A healthy baby boy – a _prince _– was born, with beautiful, golden hair, and a cute little cow lick standing proudly from the right side of his tiny head.

I'll give you a hint – this would be Alfred. Alfred Freedom Jones.

To celebrate his birth, the King and Queen launched a bright, flying lantern into the sky, and for that one moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended.

Natalia snuck into the prince's room, late at night while he was peacefully sleeping.

_Flower gleam and glow._

The child's tiny palms began to glow. Natalia became excited.

_Let your power shine._

_Make the clock reverse…_

_Bring back what once was mine…_

_What once was mine._

She realized with a start, however, she would have to take this whole child with her and raise him from infancy if she wanted him on her side, if she wanted to be youthful and beautiful forever.

She stole the child without hesitation.

The kingdom searched and searched, but they could not find the prince. For, deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, Natalia raised the child as her own.

Every so often, when she began feeling weak and aged, she would sit with the prince in the main room, where they would hold hands as Alfred sang the special song for her and, unknowingly, made her young again and again.

Natalia had found her new magic flower. But this time, she was determined to keep it hidden.

"Why can't I go outside?" The small prince would ask, sky-blue eyes wide and curious.

"The outside world is a dangerous place," Natalia would reply, brushing his golden locks. "Filled with horrible, selfish people. You _must _stay here, where you're _safe_. Do you understand, flower?"

"Yes, Mommy."

But the walls of that tower could not hide everything.

Each year on Alfred's birthday, the King and Queen released thousands of glowing lanterns into the sky, in hopes that, one day, their lost prince would return.

Each year on Alfred's birthday, the blonde child would gaze out the window at what his "mother" said were stars, thinking, _It feels as though they're just for me_.

Unbeknownst to him, they were.

* * *

><p>'Kay. So.<p>

LOL... Queso...

ANYHOO, how was it? -fidgets- I'm seriously nervous about this.

It'll be updated randomly, by the by. Because I can't seem to stick to a STUPID SCHEDULE. D:

**REVIEW**, please. :3 It actually gives me the motivation to write because 1) I see that people are reading it and 2) if the feedback's positive, I know people like it and that I should keep going. x3


	2. A Hero's Life Stuck in a Tower

_A/N:_

OH MY GOD, GUYS! ;A; I'm _so_ happy.

I got _so much _positive feedback for last chapter! T~T

Dude. Twelve reviews. _In one day_. Plus all the others I got! That may not be a lot to some authors, but to me, it's a miracle! ;A; You guys are uh-_mazing_.

So sorry this took a while! Dx You have to do a lot for a story like this. ;~;

By the way, guys – tell me whenever there are grammar errors or summit, otays? I need to know that stuff.

Oh, and sorry I'm sticking so close to the movie right now. I don't want people getting mad 'cause "it wasn't like that in the movie! D:"

**WARNING:** Though the plot hasn't developed to that point yet, this _will _be BL. Yaoi. Gay love. MaleXmale. Don't like, _please _don't make and ass out of yourself by reading.

**DISCLAIMER:** Me? Own Hetalia? _Or _Tangled? PFFT! I laugh at such idiocy!

* * *

><p>A gray blur sped out of the window high above the ground, swiftly flying over to a flower pot, where it stilled, blending in with the pot's design<strong>(1)<strong>.

The sparrow huffed, hoping not to be found.

The one _human _resident of the home suddenly stopped by to throw the window open, leaning his elbows upon the ledge which, only a moment ago, the sparrow had been skimming dangerously close to in his rush. He let out a ridiculously heavy sigh.

"Well, I guess Tony isn't hiding out _here…_" He rolled his eyes, hearing a tiny, strange, gurgle-like laugh come from his right.

He raised a golden eyebrow, crystalline-blue eyes sparkling behind half-rimmed, rectangular glasses.

Alfred's hand crept above the flower pots that decorated the window sill, trying to be as silent as possible.

"GOT'CHA!" He grabbed the bird around his body, and he cawked in protest.

Tony huffed, something he did often. _I can never win._

Only Alfred could hear his voice.

Said boy blinked. "How about twenty-three out of forty-five?"

The bird looked extremely un-amused.

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, Mr. No-Fun, what do _you _wanna to do?"

Tony nudged his head in the direction of the ground, chirping matter-of-factly. Alfred snorted, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous suggestion.

"Yeah, no. Nice try."

The bird, again, looked un-amused.

_You want to go outside as much as I do._

Alfred put the bird down, tossing his arms up in exasperation immediately afterwards. "Yeah, well you can fly anywhere, anytime you want. I don't have wings, Tony! Not to mention how upset Mother would be if I went out."

Tony cringed. He had to admit – the woman was a beast when angered.

"Exactly. I like it in here, and so do you."

The gray creature huffed once more.

"Oh, c'mon, Tony! It's not so bad in here~"

With that, Alfred gently took the bird up in his arms, turning back into the tower to find something both of them wanted to do. The blonde sighed, but put on a weak smile.

"Seven A.M., the usual morning line-up…"

His red-eyed companion sighed in his arms.

"Sweep, mop, laundry, dust…"

He did said tasks, in order, one by one, not once looking at the clock.

"Okay, one more sweep." He swept the entirety of the tower with vigor, catching any dust left behind from the feather duster.

He finally decided to look at the time, thinking a whole hour must have passed, at least.

It read seven-fifteen.

He tried not to gawk and got a twitch out of his eye instead. His eyes rolled up in an attempt to meet those of Tony, who was now seated on Alfred's golden head.

"What _now?_"

The bird, again, huffed, seemingly at a loss. Alfred placed his index finger delicately on his chin, striding over to an average, oak bookcase – the background of which he'd painted himself, with colorful letters –grabbed the first book he saw…

And then, with barely any hesitation, also took the only other two that lived in the bookcase.

He made quick work of those, in what seemed like the blink of an eye but was really about an hour and a half.

Alfred, feeling a prick of frustration begin to gnaw at the edge of his mind, grabbed his painting kit and a ladder, propped said ladder up, climbed it, and began painting a mural – a medium-sized one, considering there was only so much room on the wall with all of his other masterpieces.

Made quick work o' that, too. Hell, even _I'm _getting annoyed.

He played guitar (which he was rather good at by now), knitted (as manly as possible), and baked (also, with as much manliness as possible).

As he was bringing a fresh apple pie out of the oven (his favorite), he suddenly stopped, glancing to his upper left to see an ugly decoration his mother most likely placed on top of the fireplace.

He scanned it, determining how mad his mother would be if he took it down, if she'd even notice, what he could possibly paint there…

He put the pie on the table along with other various baked goods he'd made previously and broke out his painting kit again.

After painting for a good, long while, he decided he was rather famished and that he couldn't let his baking go to waste.

So he ate practically half the table-full for lunch.

As he hesitantly placed another cookie in his mouth (he was freakin' _full_), he got another idea of what he could do.

He and Tony did a puzzle together. It was terribly boring, keeping in mind Alfred's squirrel-length attention span.

What they did next was slightly more exhilarating – darts. Yay, sharp objects!

That yielded to be completely un-fun. Especially since Tony nearly got stuck to the dart board, if you catch my drift.

So, he baked again. Lots and lots of chocolate chip, oatmeal, and gingerbread cookies. He was still too full from lunch to eat those and waste more time.

They tried paper mache. Alfred just ended up making some creepy giant-head thing with a screwed-up face. Plus, he got the glue from the paper in his hair. Not fun.

He stooped down to ballet and _chess_, he was so desperate.

Pottery, ventriloquism, candle-making, maybe stretch some, paint some more of that mural on top of the fireplace that he had come to be proud of…

He re-read the books. Tried to paint the wall – he had been _sure _there was more room _somewhere…_

He brushed his hair.

Okay, officially out of things to do here.

"When the Hell will my _life_ begin..?"

Tony made some unintelligible noise, and Alfred glared. "I am _not _going outside, Tony. That would mean betraying Mother." The boy walked solemnly over to the window, leaning his chin on his propped-up hand, sighing dreamily. "At least I'll have something to look forward to tomorrow."

Tony tilted his head, red eyes curious. _Won't looking forward to something just make the day longer?_

Alfred resisted knocking the bird off the window sill.

"The lights will float into the sky… just like they do each year. And I'll gaze at them, all the way from here, _just _like I do _each year_." He began to sound frustrated, a result from the long day he'd just had. He turned toward the fireplace, the mural he'd painted standing out boldly from the off-white of the inner tower.

He'd painted a dark indigo night sky, big orbs of light – brighter and larger than the stars behind them – starkly contrasting with their background. He'd sketched and painted over hills and trees. Sitting atop one of those trees was a little Alfred, golden hair the color of his painted lights.

"Maybe, now that I'm older, Mother _just might _let me go."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back in our kingdom, another blonde with hair not <em>quite<em> as golden as Alfred's was climbing and jumping gracefully across rooftops with his two brothers – Gaelic and Marshall Kirkland**(2)**.

They were thieving again, this time from the King and Queen. But worth it, for the amount of gold they were going to get.

Arthur Kirkland gazed from atop of the royal family's most precious building, enjoying the view of the city.

"You know," he sighed, being overly dramatic. "I could get used to a view like this. Guys, I want a castle."

Gaelic rolled his eyes and strode toward his youngest brother, catching him by the collar.

"We do this job, ya get yer own castle."

The Brit raised his hands up defensively. "Just stating."

Marshall pulled a loose panel from the roof of the large building, Arthur eyeing the patchy satchel that lie on a pedestal inside, surrounded by guards.

Arthur nodded to his brothers.

He, being the smallest and lightest (not that he would admit that. He was forced.), was to be tied by the waist with ropes, and hoisted down to the pedestal, where he would steal the satchel.

But it was what was _in _the satchel they needed.

They may as well take the bag, just for good measure.

Their plan was carried out without a hitch – until one of the guards sneezed.

Arthur, being the sarcastic jerk he was, felt the need to call the fully-protected and fully-armed man out. "Hay fever?"

The tall man turned to him for a split second. "Yeah." He turned back to his post –

Only to realize he'd just missed something and whip back around.

Unfortunately, Arthur and his brothers had already made their escape.

They were currently running along a bridge that led across to a forest – a forest containing a certain prince's tower.

"Hell! All this action and it's barely eight in the morning! Gentlemen, this is a _very _big day!"

* * *

><p>"This is it. Today is a <em>very <em>big day, Tony," Alfred flashed his famous hundred-watt grin at his gray companion. "I'm _finally _gonna do it. I'm gonna ask her –"

"Alfred! I'm ho~ome!"

The boy nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Quick, Tony!" He pulled the curtains over the fireplace to cover his new mural. "Hide! She can't see you!"

The bird rolled his eyes, already knowing the intimidating woman couldn't see him. He hid behind the curtain without contradicting his human friend, though; Alfred was bunched up with nerves.

"Welcome home, Mother!"

Natalia appeared from the kitchen, as she always seemed to. But, from what Alfred could tell, there was most definitely not a door in there, and Natalia refused to let him watch her leave.

"Oh, Alfred, my darling," she spread her arms out wide, and Alfred practically galloped into them. "Living in this tower all day every day with barely anything to suit your horrible attention span… I don't know how you do it."

Alfred was a little shocked by her wording, but let out a laugh anyway – even if it sounded more on the nervous side. "I-it's nothing."

Natalia began laughing, loudly. Alfred just stood there, twiddling his thumbs, wondering what was so funny.

The woman pinched the boy's cheek. "Oh, darling, I'm just teasing!" She walked off to the other side of the tower, toward the lone mirror that stood at the wall.

Alfred was un-amused.

"Alright," He sighed. "Well, Mom, as you know, tomorrow is a _very _big day –"

"Alfred, look in to that mirror. Do you know what I see?"

The blonde looked up to his mother skeptically. "No."

She continued as if he hadn't said anything. "I see a strong, confident, handsome young man standing beside me…"

Alfred felt relief and pride flood through him –

"Ah, a fitting husband." She cackled. "Oh, wait, you're here too."

Alfred' head ducked down, his eyes looking a little stricken.

"I'm just _teasing_. Stop taking everything so _seriously!_" He was nudged sharply in the ribs by Natalia's elbow.

She began studying herself in the mirror, her mirth gradually dying down as she scanned her slightly wrinkled face and crinkly hair.

"O-okay… so, Mom, as I was saying, tomorrow is –"

"Alfred, Mother is feeling a little run-down. Would you sing for me, dear? Then we'll talk."

Alfred put on a chipper disposition. "Oh! Of course, Mom!"

He ran off, grabbing his mother's favorite chair from its place by the window and slapping it in the middle of the room. Natalia, who was already making her way over, was snatched by the arm and dragged into the chair, plopping himself Indian-style in front of her and taking her wrinkled hands in his.

"Flower gleam 'n glow, let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine -"

He sang it on super-speed, the words barely intelligible. His palms began glowing a bright gold.

"Wait! Alfred, _wait!_"

"Heal what has been hurt, change the Fates' design, save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine~!"

The power lasted a split second but, luckily for Natalia, worked. She knew she would have to do it again sooner than usual, thanks to Alfred's haste, but it wasn't like the brat was going anywhere.

"Alfred!" She began to scold.

"So, Mom, earlier I was saying that tomorrow is a _really _big day and you didn't really respond so, I'm just gonna tell you –" He latched himself to her arm. "It's my birthday!" He grinned his hundred-watt smile. "Tuh-duh!"

Natalia put on a strained smile a held her son's arms, gently – or something like that – pushing him away from her.

"No, no no. Can't be. I distinctly remember – your birthday was _last_ year."

Alfred gave a sort of so-funny-I-forgot-to-laugh chuckle and looked his mother in her midnight-blues.

"That's the funny thing about birthdays – they're kind of an annual thing." Alfred sighed and sat in front of his mother once more, staring at the dark blue bow at the top of her silver hair. "Mother, I'm turning eighteen."

Alfred scanned Natalia's face for any sign of anger before his eyes bored into hers again. He was never a shy person – even when nervous.

"And… what I _really _want for this birthday –" However, his nerves got to him and he curled a finger into his golden hair. "Actually, what I've wanted for quite a few birthdays –"

"Okay, Alfred, _please_, stop with the mumbling. You know how feel about the mumbling. Blah, blah blah…" Alfred looked surprised. He hadn't seen _any _emotion registered on her face! "It's _very _annoying!"

Alfred, again, looked stricken by his mother's words.

Natalia, seeming to have realized just what she had said, quickly fixed the issue. "Oh, darling, I'm just teasing, you're adorable, I love you so much, darling." She giggled, pinched his cheek, then stood, feeling a little embarrassed about what she'd said. She walked over to a table by the stairs, plucking an apple out of the basket she's brought and placed there.

He heard a small tweet come from his mural and glanced toward Tony.

The bird nudged his beak toward Natalia. _Go. Keep trying!_

Alfred, puffing his chest up with resolve, suddenly shouted:

"I want to see the floating lights!"

Natalia's eyes visibly widened from halfway across the room. She laughed without amusement. "Uh, what?"

She placed her apple back in the basket, knowing what was coming.

Alfred, being rather tall, pulled himself up onto the mantle of the fireplace, pushing the curtains there away from the painting that wasn't there when Natalia had left this morning.

"Actually, I was hoping _you _would take me to see the floating lights."

Natalia knew a way to save this, if only some. "Oh. You mean the _stars_."

Alfred huffed in exasperation. "That's the thing –" He climbed the rafters (_like a monkey_, Natalia noted) and to a small, circular window – parallel to which was a star map with the tower in the center. "I've charted stars, and they're _always _constant. But these?" He pointed down to his mural. "They appear on my birthday, Mom, and _only _on my birthday."

He swung down to the fireplace, leaning his head against the wall with closed eyes and sighing. "And I can't help but feel like they're…" He stared out the now-open window. "Like they're _meant _for me_._"

Natalia laughed. "You've always had a thing for astronomy, haven't you, dea –"

"Don't change the subject, Mother." He looked into her eyes with a hard stare. "I need to see them. Not just from my window. In _person_." He hunched over, looking at his feet. "I _have _to know what they are."

"You want to go _outside_?" The silver-haired woman scoffed. "Why, _Alfred_. Look at you, as fragile as a flower. Still a little _sapling_, just a sprout. You know why I keep you in this tower."

"Yeah, I know, Mom, but –"

"That's right. To keep you safe and sound." She sighed dramatically. "I guess I always knew this day was coming… that soon you'd want to leave the nest. Soon, but not yet."

"_But_ –"

"_Shh_. Trust me, dear. Mother knows best."

Alfred blinked, feeling a little skeptical of his mother. How horrible could it _possibly _be, outside?

"It's a scary world out there," she nodded resolutely. "One way or another, something will go wrong – I swear, darling."

His baby blues rolled, and Natalia caught it. Her eyes narrowed.

"Roughens, thugs, poison ivy, quick sand, cannibals and snakes – the plague!"

Alfred actually felt a little fear bubbling up. But he refused to believe it. "No!"

Natalia suddenly looked ghastly. "Yes!"

"Also, large bugs, men with pointy teeth, and –" She theatrically placed her hand on her forehead, acting devastated, trying to scare her tool. "Stop, no more, you'll just _upset_ me~!"

The golden boy's eyes were wide with fear. Did his mother have to deal with this on a day-to-day basis? Isn't he supposed to be a hero?

"But Mother's right here, Alfred. Mother will protect you." She hugged him tightly to her chest. "Skip the _drama_, stay with Mama." She giggled at her little rhyme, though Alfred found himself thinking she was insane.

"Mother knows best. On your own, you won't _survive_."

She unlatched herself from him, scanning him up and down with a thoughtful look. "Sloppy, under-dressed, immature –" She tripped him – "_Clumsy!_" He glared up at his mother.

_You did that on purpose!_

"Please! They'll eat you up _alive!_ Gullible, naïve, ditzy and a little bit… vague. Plus, I believe, gettin' kinda chubby," She patted under Alfred's chin, as if pointing out fat. Alfred found it positively rude, all of what she was saying. But especially the chubby part.

"But I'm just saying because I wuv yoo!"

Alfred glared at her sharply, hoping she didn't notice.

"Mother understands~ mother's here to help you! All I have is one request."

Alfred knew, though she could be rude, that his mother was just being over-protective and loved him very much. He sighed and ran into her outstretched arms.

"Alfred." He looked up at Natalia, only to see she had a cold gaze set on him.

"Yeah?"

"Don't _ever_ ask to leave this tower again."

He felt his lip quiver and ducked his head. "Yes, Mom."

She sighed, as if unable to believe his reaction. She gently took his chin and raised his eyes to meet hers.

"I love you _very much_, dear."

He smiled. "I love you more."

She smiled tenderly back. "I love you most." She kissed his forehead.

"Don't forget it, because you'll regret it. Mother. Knows. Best."

With that, she scampered off into the kitchen.

"I'll see you in a bit, my flower!"

He looked on sadly. "I'll… I'll be here." He frowned, lower lip trembling.

"Always."

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

Yeah, it was boring and poorly written. I know. And I'm _so sorry. _Dx

**1**: Yes, the gray sparrow is Alfred's little alien friend, Tony. Y'know, the one who cusses all the time and calls England a f-king limey (FORESHADOWING?)? Anyhoo, he can blend into the scenery, like Pascal. 'Cause he's an alien. Yeah.

**2**: These two are Scotland and Ireland. I can't believe I named Scotland Gaelic… how cliché. Anyway, thought a thieving trio of brothers would be more interesting than those two big horrible dudes. Gaelic and Marshall are still pretty big and horrible, though.


	3. A Grumpy Thief vs A Proud Prussian

_A/N:_

OMFG, how can like, three weeks go by so quickly? ;A;

I feel like such a fail! I told you guys I couldn't follow a schedule! T~T

Anyway, here's the third chapter. And, since _everyone _was telling me to (and, truth be told, I kinda knew I had to), I put a lot more "me" into this chapter. ;P

BY THE WAY: Maximus will not be a horse. ;A; Sorry! Aaaand… I know you were all expecting this… but he's not France, either. T~T I COULDN'T HELP IT

Oh, and **Dreamers0rule0the0earth** gave me an excellent suggestion, and I'd like to thank her for it. ;P I USED YOUR IDEA :DD

**WARNING:** Though the plot hasn't developed to that point yet, this _will _be BL. Yaoi. Gay love. MaleXmale. Don't like, _please _don't make and ass out of yourself by reading.

**DISCLAIMER:** Me? Own Hetalia? _Or _Tangled? PFFT! I laugh at such idiocy!

* * *

><p>The Kirkland brothers ran at top speed into the forest, the sound of clinking metal and angry shouts catching up with them, if only little by little.<p>

As Arthur ran past a tree, he couldn't help but notice something horrendous.

"Oh, God save the Queen!"

Gaelic snorted, making an abrupt stop with Marshall not too far behind.

"What's the matter with you, boy?"

He pointed incredulously to a wanted poster that featured himself and the older brothers.

"They just _cannot _get my eyebrows right!"

His oldest brother rolled his eyes dramatically, grabbing the blonde's arm. "Who _cares_?"

"Right easy for you to say!" He used his free arm to point to Gaelic in the drawing. "You both look _amazing_!"

The eldest two – who looked nothing alike with the exception of their large eyebrows – were made to look exactly like each other in the drawing.

Marshall stared at the small blonde. "How much of an idiot _are _you, runt?"

Arthur gave him a poisonous glare. "I –"

"_There they are! The thieves!_"

The three brothers glanced behind them.

Up on a rather tall cliff was the Royal Army's most prized General, Francis Bonnefoy, pointing his sword dangerously at them.

"Beilschmidt, Carriedo! Flank me!"

An albino and a Spaniard rode up beside him on their steeds, flashing arrogant smirks.

The Frenchman glared at the thieving trio.

"_After them!_"

The brothers fled the scene before the words even left the General's mouth.

They ran and ran; the galloping of horses could be heard from their distance.

"Oi, Arthur."

The youngest Kirkland turned to face Gaelic, only to find a malicious grin on the gruff man's face.

"See you at the gallows."

He waved the satchel they had swiped in front of the other man's face, saluting him with two fingers before Marshall, who was beside Arthur, attempted tripping him.

Arthur, being smarter than his two beasts for brothers, saw this coming and grabbed the foot aimed for his knee, twisting it and allowing his Irish brother to fall into the muck.

Gaelic growled. "Dammit, you little –"

Arthur snatched the Scot's arm, kneed it right in the elbow joint (pleased when he heard a loud _crack_), and plucked the patchy bag from its new position in the air.

His eldest brother fell to his knees, gripping his now-swollen right elbow tightly.

"You see, Gaelic," Arthur waggled the satchel in front of his brother's face, satisfied with the snarl it earned him. "I had a sinking feeling that, supposedly, I was the only male in the family raised by Mother to be a gentleman." He clucked his tongue at the downed man. "I hoped it wasn't true. Unfortunately, with your beastly nature, it had to be."

With the same salute the eldest brother had given him, Arthur scampered off, just as the Royal Army's shouts became louder and closer.

"You are _no _gentleman, Arthur! Leaving your brothers to the gallows!"

Gaelic heard a howl of laughter.

"How hypocritical!"

Gaelic and Marshall saw their lives flash before their eyes as the General and his two right-hand-men galloped past, not even sparing them a glance.

However, before they could breathe sighs of relief, the footmen had them bound in shackles.

* * *

><p>As Francis gave Antonio and I our orders, I couldn't help but chuckle.<p>

"What's so funny, Gilbert?" The Spaniard quirked an eyebrow at me, grinning.

"I've been after this guy for the longest time." My eyes narrowed. "And today, I'll finally catch 'im."

Francis bore practically the same grin Antonio did. "That you will, Gilbert. That you will."

I waved to them with a crooked smile before riding off ahead of them, happy they let me snag Kirkland myself.

I was gonna make this fun.

I saw a flash of yellow in front of me, and as I looked up curiously to look at the figure, my eyes caught with startled, toxic greens.

My face cracked into my infamous (thanks to all the women in town) "got'cha!" smirk.

"I've got you, Kirkland! No point in running!"

Unfortunately, after my awesome badass moment, my un-awesome, un-badass horse tripped, sending me flying with a thud into something squishy.

"_Gott ver dammt_, that hurt…"

I looked below me, only to see a wriggling, flustered Brit.

"Would you _get off of me_, you fat-ass _bastard?_" He growled.

I grinned.

"Ah-_hah!_ I got you! I knew I coul –"

The smaller man's eyes shot to his left side before coming back to meet mine.

I looked over.

_Aw crap apples, the satchel._

My eyes burned into his; focusing, waiting for him to make the first move –

We both dove for the bag.

We rumbled, and tumbled, and beat the crap out of each other…

Then, there was a cliff.

I pulled the satchel one way, he pulled it the other. Which, in hindsight, was _not _a very good idea.

Though I _totally _won the small bout of tug-o-war (because I'm awesome), I guess I don't know my own strength.

I launched it over the edge of the cliff.

"OH, SHI –"

We both scrambled after it, even though we feared it was already long gone.

We peered over the edge.

It looked as though it were hanging for dear life on a tiny branch on a large root that stuck out from the cliff's edge.

Kirkland stared at me, and I at him.

Then I tried shoving him off the edge, but just ended up getting shoved off myself.

"Hey!" I huffed, hanging from the underside of the root, plastering an un-amused look on my face. "Not. Awesome."

He looked at me incredulously. "'Not awesome'? You tried to the same thing to _me!_"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure. But I'm the good guy. That makes it okay."

The short man spluttered, eyes wide as he stared at me. I barely heard a mumbled "Has _everyone _in this world always been this hypocritical?" before he stepped bravely onto the branch, his feet dangerously close to my sweaty, already weakening hands.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Simple. I'm going to crush your hands so you let go and fall down the cliff."

I gaped at him.

"Didn't you shout something about being a 'gentleman' at those demons of yours?"

The Brit gave me a venomous smirk. "If you're allowed to be a hypocrite, so am I."

He raised his foot.

"Whoa, now, let's not be too –"

It came down hard and fast.

I moved further down the root, toward the satchel. "- hasty!"

A nervous laugh and his eyes were slits, concentrated on my swift hands.

He quickly stomped down again. I moved. Another stomp. I got even closer to the satchel.

He brought his feet down repeatedly on the root, aiming rather well for my hands but, unfortunately for him, not even scratching them – or touching them, for that matter.

I ended up grabbing the bag for myself, once he pushed me close enough.

"HA!"

_CRACK_

Again, we stared at one another.

And, in unison –

"OH FUUUUU –"

The root broke and sent us tumbling down the side of the cliff.

* * *

><p>"God damn it, this is <em>not <em>how I wanted the situation to end…"

A pout set itself upon my face. I'd hit the ground _hard_. Thankfully, however, I'd woken before the German and snatched the precious cargo, then I'd trotted off.

"Hopefully that bastard Beilschmidt hasn't yet recovered –"

"_Kirkland! _Where the eff are you?"

"_Where the 'eff'"? _I grimaced at his childish nature and clutched the bag tightly in my hand.

_Whatever. I need to find a good hiding place… maybe against this big rock. It's got a nice overhang of vines I can hide be –_

I cleared the vines - with all intent to cover myself in them - but what I saw behind them was not at all a rock.

"KIRKLAND!"

I bit my lip, screwing the sense I got that said 'don't go in there' and dove into the opening.

I stayed as silent and still as possible, my ears perked for any noise whatsoever of the albino's approach.

Leaves crunched and grass swished outside the little cave I'd perched in, and the silhouette of the lanky German stood in the vines.

_What's that on his head? _There was a tiny, chubby thing resting on his head. _I hope it's a poisonous spider._

The man moved on, still calling my name.

"Idiot. Why would he think I would come out? Some honor thing? I'm not stupid."

I decided internally that I probably shouldn't move from my cave until the man gave up, so I thought it best to quell my boredom and explore a little.

I turned to head further in –

Only to find a spacious, green clearing with a whole color wheel of flowers and a tall, beautiful tower stuck right in the middle.

The sight was placed in a wide, bowl-like encircling of rock and, to make it even more gorgeous, there was a large waterfall pouring loudly from the very top and into a small lake.

The sun hit the tower just right, as well.

"Bloody Hell…" I gasped, eyes wide, as I slowly took in my surroundings.

"ARTHUR _FREAKING _KIRKLAND, I SWEAR TO GOD –"

I gulped.

Well, the tower seemed abandoned enough…

I jogged to it, circling around it for any kind of entrance and, just when I thought I wouldn't find anything, I spotted a bit of wood beneath a pile of vines.

I had expected the vines to be thick and rooted in the cracks between the wooden planks of the trap door, but they lifted with, surprisingly, no problem.

I grabbed the edge of the old door and flung it open, seeing a rather shirt flight of stairs that lead to a cavern below.

"Alright… here goes everything."

I stepped onto the fifth or sixth step, climbing down the stairs cautiously, in case there truly was someone here after all.

Fortunately for me, the tunnel was completely abandoned. It was a freaking spooky place, though.

Though it was very hard for me to see in the darkness, I eventually found my way to what was the end of the tunnel. There was a rather long flight of stairs this time, twisting around in a circle to what was another trap door, very far up.

"It must be all the way up to the tope of the tower…" I sighed in exasperation. "At least I'm curious enough to climb all these bloody steps."

After about ten minutes (but what seemed like forty-five), I reached the top of the flight.

The trap door this time, however, was not really a trap door at all.

It was a large square of stone, what looked to be the flooring of the room above.

I gathered all the might I could muster into my lean arms and shoved the slab of stone upward, then forward, satisfied when I heard the _clunk _of it landing on the same material.

I puffed out unneeded air from the exertion and pulled myself into what looked like a kitchen. It was – dare I say – cute, and small.

I quickly shoved the slab back over the opening, even though I knew the Beilschmidt wouldn't have followed me. Couldn't have.

I looked into the satchel, lovingly stroking the (literal) crown jewel inside.

"Ah~ alone at la –"

The back of my head suddenly exploded into a burst of pain, and everything went black.

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

LOL, does anyone know what line I used from another Disney movie with another Disney princess in it in here? I definitely used one! Anyone who messages me with it will get cyber cookies and I will update really fast - in like, two days, just for them! xP

But, yes, true to my word, Maximus is not a horse. Maximus isn't even _Maximus_ - nor is he Francis. HE BE GILBERT/PRUSSIA! BUAHAHA!

I'm _so _sorry. xD I really couldn't help it - I love Prussia so much! XXDD Aaand I hate Francis. -.-" Probably as much as dear Arthur does~

DON'T WORRY, ALFIE

WE'LL GET BACK TO YOU SOON, MY DEAR~! xP


	4. Of Heroes and Thieves

_A/N:_

Yo! xP

A reviewer actually got the quote I used last chappie! I'm so proud! :DD

An anonymous reviewer almost got it – **alexdemyx**. You were _almost _right; you had the right movie in mind. xP

But CONGRATS, **H. E. Vaughn**! :DD I'm über proud of yooou~! x3

So proud, in fact, that I updated a day after you reviewed! :DD

Nice try to everyone who guessed but didn't get it. Most of you were actually really close! ;D

Here's what it was:

While Arthur was trying to stomp Gilbert's hands so he'd fall off the cliff, poor Gilbo said, "Let's not be too hasty!" It's from Aladdin. ;P

OH, and I'm _so_ glad that like, _no one _expected Maximus to be Francis. Everyone was so excited that he was Gilbert! ;D So YAY. Good job on my part! xD

**WARNING:** Though the plot hasn't quite developed to that point yet, this _will _be BL. Yaoi. Gay love. MaleXmale. Don't like, _please_don't make and ass out of yourself by reading.

**DISCLAIMER:** Me? Own Hetalia? Or Tangled? PFFT! Such idiocy!

* * *

><p>I huffed, running a hand through my golden locks. I'd made a bold move, actually coming up to some guy – who <em>could <em>be a thief or who might want to steal _me _– and hitting him upside the head with a baseball bat.

Brave indeed.

I had seen the man from my window while I was – again – man-baking. I had been transitioning a pie from the oven to the table when I saw a flash of yellow from the corner of my eye. At first, I'd thought it was just a yellow bird passing by the window. However, when I looked out of said window…

Now I had a messy, on-the-floor pie and a meanie, on-the-floor crook.

"What the Hell'm I supposed to do with this guy?" I poked his cheek with the tip of my bat –

And got a groan in response.

I quickly whipped the "weapon" hard on his back, and there was silence.

Tony came fluttering over. _You're scrambling his brains, Alfred_.

"Hey, I didn't actually hit him in the head that time."

The bird gave me a look. _Okay, then. You're rupturing his spinal cord which, in retrospect, is no better than scrambling his brains. In fact, it's probably far worse._

My eyes rolled skyward in annoyance as I lightly flicked him away with my hand. He used his signature dramatic huff. _Someone's grumpy_.

I grabbed my hostage/thief's legs, dragging him – none too gently – over to my armoire. "Tony. Seriously? This guy just broke into the tower lookin' all creepy and I had to beat him senseless with a baseball bat." I kicked open one of the doors. "Would _you _be in a splendid mood after that? I mean… this is the first person from the outside world I've ever seen other than my mother."

_What does that have to do with anything?_

I grunted as I shoved the other blonde into the armoire, glaring at my tiny bird friend. "He-_llo?_ I want a happy reunion with the outside, not… _this_." I gestured to the man, thick-ass eyebrows and all.

He tumbled out of the piece of furniture.

"UGH!"

I threw him back in, quick to close the doors on him this time so he wouldn't fall out.

I ended up slamming them on his fingers. They stuck out from between the doors awkwardly.

My front teeth bit into my bottom lip. "Ouchie…"

I stuffed them in, attempting to ignore the _crack _that came from his index finger.

I brushed my hands together, wrapping them in fists and placing them on my hips as my chest swelled with pride. "I. Have a grown man. In my closet." I turned to my full-length mirror, grinning widely to myself into it. "Dude! I have a _freaking grown man _in my closet!"

I laughed almost manically as I said this. "Can't handle myself, Mom?" I swung around my bat in what I thought, proudly, was expertise. "Why don't you tell that to my deadly swinging weapon of doo – OW!"

I'd ended up hitting myself in the shoulder with it. Hard.

"Mother effing piece of…" Something sparkled in the corner of my eye. I raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?" I turned to it, discovering that it was, in fact, in the guy's man-purse. Whatever was inside gleamed happily at me as I leaned down to pick it up.

I examined it, taking in the tremendous amount of expensive-looking jewels engraved in the solid-gold wiring and plating of – whatever it was.

I held it delicately, but feared dropping it, so I tightened my grip a little.

It really was gorgeous.

"Tony… what do you think it is?"

The bird's head tilted a little as he pondered. _Bracelet?_

I tried it, but it just… no.

_Looking glass?_

I gave him a severe 'are-you-kidding?' face and turned back to my mirror.

Gently, oh so gently, I placed the – what I assumed was jewelry – on my head, thinking it looked really girly, but really good. "Whoa… it's so…"

"Alfred~! I'm ho~ome!"

I jumped at Mother's voice, placing the jewelry and the bag in a jar on the far-side of the room.

"M-Mom! Welcome home!"

She placed the things she gathered while out on the table, an eyebrow quirked and a smirk sent at me. "What were you doing?" Once my mouth opened to speak she continued. "Oh, never mind that. I have a big surprise!"

"Uhm, actually, I have one too –"

"I tell you, mine is even bigger!" Mom's strange accent made the sentence sound actually eerie in a way, but I tried to pay it no mind.

Under my breath, I stated, "I _highly _doubt that…"

She walked toward me, silver hair swishing at her hips as she sashayed over. Her hands landed on my shoulders. "I'm making those burger-things you love for dinner tonight! You're _welcome!_" She laughed, turning on her heel and pacing back to the table to unload her supplies. "It's my apology for the fight we had earlier…"

"Uh, yeah, about that…"

My mother visibly stiffed. "I hope you're not still going on about the stars, Alfred."

"Th-the, uh, floating lights," my palms began to sweat. This is harder than I thought it'd be…

I moved to the armoire. "And you may _think _I'm not strong enough to handle myself out there, but –"

"Oh, sweetheart, I _know _my baby is not strong enough to handle himself out there."

"But if you'd just let me –"

"Alfred. We are done with this conversation."

I sighed in frustration. "But, Mom, _trust _me! I know that –"

"Alfred."

"But Mom –"

"_Alfred…_"

"Oh, come _on_ –"

"_Enough with the lights already, you silly boy_!"

I flinched.

"You. _Are not_. Leaving _this tower _EVER! NOT EVEN AFTER YOU DIE!"

I tried to blink back my tears, but considering how blurry my eyes had gotten, if I so much as _blinked_, rivulets would pour down my face.

My lip quivered and I looked away from my mother. I couldn't let her see that she hurt me; I'm a hero, and heroes don't cry.

"_Tsk_." She shook her head. "Fantastic. Now _I'm _the bad guy."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. _That's really what you care about right now? Do you know what you just _said _to me? Do you know you practically _crushed _me?_

I avoided looking at her as well as possible, my gaze sneaking over to the mural I painted above the fireplace.

Though slowly, and shakily, resolve came through me, and I felt my body move to stand in front of the cell of my prisoner.

"All I was going to say, Mother…" she stiffed once more, especially so since I almost never called her so formally. "Is that… I know what I want for my birthday now..!"

"And _what _is that?" Her voice was hard and cold.

I hesitated. "Some paint. The paint made from those pretty white shells you brought me once…"

"Well, Alfred, that trip is _extremely _long. We're talking three days!"

Her chilling, calculating, indigo-blue eyes stabbed into mine.

"I just… I just thought it was better than the…" I swallowed my pride for a moment. "… stars."

Her dark form stood, a hand coming to her head to brush back silver locks and to re-adjust her bow. She blew out a heavy sigh and walked over. Her hands again fell upon my shoulders.

"Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Something warm – probably relief – raced through my veins, and I relaxed, knowing she'd be gone for three days. I fell into her, sighing. She wrapped her arms around my back.

"I know I'll be safe as long as I'm here, in my cozy tower."

She kissed my forehead.

My mother had left, we both exchanging our ritual goodbyes – her telling me how long she'd be gone, me saying I loved her, but how she loved me most. Then she was gone.

"_Finally!_" I rolled my eyes, running past a startled Tony. "You're gonna have to help me with this one, buddy!"

I swung a chair out from by the stairs, placing it in front of my makeshift prison. I moved to the right side of the furniture and gripped the handle. "Here we go…"

I tugged the handle and both doors swung open.

The shorter man fell out and onto the floor almost immediately, and his face landed with a satisfying _splat _on the floor. I had to hold back a snicker.

I gulped and treaded cautiously over to him, kicking his head lightly with my bare foot, my bat at my side.

He didn't so much as stir.

"Tony?"

The little grey bird flew obediently to my side and chirped.

"Could you get me a really long vine from the forest?" I threw him onto the chair I'd brought out. "If you're strong enough?"

The creature seemed to snort. _Don't worry about me. Just make sure bushy here doesn't wake up._

And he left me to my own devices.

I stared at the man I now had in my custody, my chin resting in my open palms.

His head was bowed to his chest, having nothing to support it. I'd seen his large eyebrows and bright, blonde hair (brighter than my gold), but I hadn't actually gotten a good look at his face.

Curious now, I drew my bat and tip-toed to his front, placing my hands gently on each side of his face, fearful of my touch being too rough and waking him.

Lightly as possible, I lifted his head.

He had boyish features and a sharp chin, and his eyebrows were actually bushier than I'd thought. His gold lashes were long and plentiful, brushing at skin that was a clear, snowy ivory.

I blushed. "Whoa…"

_Yeah, he's pretty_.

I jumped, allowing the man's head to drop back down to his chest with a _thud_.

"T-Tony! Don't scare me like that!"

The bird's red eyes rolled. _You were only startled because you were staring at him like a schoolboy with a huge crush._

I glared at him, though it obviously lacked intensity. "Was _not!_ His face is admirable, I'll give him that, but he's not _that _pretty."

He seemed to scoff. _Right. Anyway, I leaned your vine on the window sill. It was heavier than anticipated…_

I sighed, patting him on the head. "Give yourself more credit. At least you got it over here. You're barely the size of my fist."

… _But your hands are huge._

I paused.

"Still. You're freaking small."

I retrieved the vine and tied my victim with it tightly - around his arms, legs, and upper body – and grabbed the quite-a-few-feet that was left. Tony flew onto the guy's shoulder, and I mentally prepared my speech, nodding to the bird.

He pecked a closed eye with his sharp beak.

"_BLOODY HELL, THAT HURT!_"

Tony jumped and flew at me in a flash, planting himself on my shoulder and attempting to hide in my chin-length hair. I rolled my eyes.

"Wh-what the..? Are these… _vines_?"

I came into his field of vision, setting a harsh glare on his face (which was hard to do – he was so gorgeous, now that his vivid green eyes set his look) and patting my bat into my hand.

"Struggling's pointless," I pointed out, seeing the beginnings of him doing just that. "I wrapped you up nice and tight."

His gaze shot up to mine and, what was a stony, tough expression, melted into a soft awe.

"Who are you, and how did you find me?"

"I-I – uh –" He cleared his throat, bowing his head slightly but keeping eye contact. His eyes bore into mine, the expression in them arrogant and smug. "I know not how I came here, nor how I came to find you…"

His British accent nearly crumbled all of my resolve.

"But allow me to say that you are the most _handsome _man I have _ever _laid my eyes on."

Aw, crap. He was a player.

So much for _that_ wet dream…

I gave him a 'you-must-be-joking'-type face.

"I am Arthur Kirkland, gentleman and thief-for-hire."

I scoffed at the contradiction, pointing my bat threateningly at his face, acting unfazed by his sly, sleazy expression. "Who else knows where my tower is, _Kirkland_?"

"Look, boy –"

"_Alfred_."

"Terribly sorry," he took in a big gasp of air. "I was running away from someone when I came across your tower. I came over, found the entrance and was cur –" His bright green eyes widened, and his head turned this way and that. "Where – what – " He looked up at me desperately.

"_Where _is my satchel?" He bit his lip.

I tried to ignore how irresistible that looked.

"I've hidden it. Somewhere you'll never hope of finding it."

I smiled smugly. _Oh yeah. Who's the hero _now_?_

"It's in that pot over there, isn't it?"

My eyes darted to him and I gave him the harshest glare I'd ever given anyone. "Way to spoil my fun!"

_THWACK_

While he was knocked out – _again_ – I ran to the pot, grabbed its contents and –

What, you think I'd tell you where I put them? Pitiful.

I asked Tony to commit one more painful blow to the Kirkland's eye (which he said a hearty _Hell yes _to) and we positioned ourselves once more.

"_OW!_ God _damn it_, boy!"

"ALFRED!"

The Brit gave me a hard stare.

"Anyway," I strode around his chair, never taking my eyes off of him. "_Now _it's hidden where you'll never find it."

The blonde man's stunning green orbs rolled upward dramatically.

"Now then." I put the bat to his Adam's apple, and those eyes became wide. "What do you want with me? To kidnap me? _Sell_ me?"

He snorted. "For God's sakes, no! The only thing I want with _you _is for you to let me go and give me my bloody satchel!"

I paused, quirking an eyebrow at him. The bat hand faltered. "Wait. You _don't _want to kidnap me?"

"Of course not! Why in the _world _would I do something like that?" He huffed, looking me straight in the eye. "I ran away. I saw this tower. I found an entrance and came in. That's _all_."

I blinked at him. "Y-you're telling the truth?"

He seemed taken aback by the fact that I stuttered. "_Yes_."

Tony suddenly sprang from my shoulder and flew at light speed onto the Brit's nose, his expressive red eyes peering into the wide green of the other, studying.

The bird turned his head to me. _Nope, doesn't seem he's lying._

My bat arm dropped to my side. "Oh."

The Kirkland stared at me. "Oh?"

I cocked my head at him. "Did you not hear what my _partner _just said? Confirmed. You're not lying."

He looked at me as if I had the plague.

It got on my nerves the longer he gave me the look. "_What_?"

"Are you saying… that _bird _can speak?"

"Yes. Rather clearly." A wry smile claimed my face. "Anyway, _Kirkland_ – I am prepared to offer you a deal for your release."

He snorted. "A – a _deal_? Surely you're jo –"

"Look _this _way~" I roughly tugged the vine in the direction of the fireplace, but kicked his chair over just for good measure, knowing he'd be able to see my mural anyway.

"Do you know what _those _are?" I pointed to the mural with my bat, emphasizing that I did still have it and was prepared to use it.

He glared at me from the stony floor, half of his face smushed against it. "You mean the lanterns the King and Queen throw into the sky for the Prince?"

My interest piqued at that. "Lanterns… of course!" I chuckled at myself, the Kirkland giving me another look. I just rolled my eyes in reply. "Well, tomorrow night they're gonna throw the lanterns, and I need an escort." I raised my chin and pointed my stick of doom at him, trying to look intimidating. "_You _will be that escort. Take me there, get me back – without a scratch. That is the _only_ way you're getting your man-purse –"

"Satchel."

"- back _at all_. Got it?"

He sighed in faux sadness, twisting himself so his chair would turn upright somewhat, putting him in a more comfortable position. "Yes, well, I'm afraid I can't. Unfortunately, the Kingdom and I aren't exactly 'simpatico'**(1)** at the moment, so…" he laughed a little, "_I _won't be taking _you _anywhere."

My face hardened at him, and I looked at Tony from the corner of my eye.

He nodded his head toward the other man and snapped his jaws.

I placed the swinging stick on the Brit's shoulder none-too-gently and leaned down to his level.

"Something brought you here, _Kirkland_. Call it what you will – fate, destiny –"

"A royally pissed off Prussian…"

"But I have decided to trust you."

"A right horrible decision, really."

I stomped my leg onto his thigh (uncomfortably close to his crotch) and leaned in extremely close to his face, our noses nearly touching, oceanic blues meeting with surprised, grassy greens.

"But _you_ had better trust _me _when I tell you this:

You can tear my tower apart _brick by brick_, but without me, you will _never _find your precious, God-forsaken satchel. Capiche?"

He blinked as my eyes tore into his, a fair few emotions flickering through the toxic orbs before he spoke. "Alright. I take you to the lanterns, bring you home, and I get my satchel?"

"I swear to you as a hero."

There was a pause as his eyes scanned mine.

"Well. You obviously take this 'hero' stuff _very_ seriously, but… I'm going to have to pull out my secret weapon." He took in a steadying breath. "Here comes… _The Smolder._"

He gave me the strangest, most sleazy, goofiest look I had ever seen in my entire life.

His huge eyebrows were raised high on his forehead, lips puckered, eyes somehow clouding with a bittersweet emotion that I didn't want to read for sake of my innocence…

I snorted, trying to contain my laughter.

'The Smolder' shattered into a million pieces, seemingly with the man's soul. "_Fine_, I'll take you to see the _stupid _lanterns..!"

"For real?" A wide grin spread across my face and I gave an uncharacteristic giggle, which he blushed to, eyes wide.

"Now… before I say anything else, would you mine stepping away from my thigh?"

"… Oh." I blinked and back away from him, leaning on the fireplace. "Sorry. Intimidation over."

He scanned my face, seeming to think over something.

"You know," he smirked. "That had to have been the _sexiest _show of dominance I have _ever _experienced."

My face went red hot and I waved my bat at him. "I still have the power here, y'know!"

* * *

><p>I showed Alfred the way in and out of the tower – it seemed he'd never known about it before, which was strange. Did he <em>never <em>leave? And, if so, who was the one who _did _go to the outside, and where were they now?

The golden-haired boy lingered behind by quite a bit as I flopped the trap door at the end of the tunnel open. "Boy, what could you _possibly _be staring at?"

His eyes narrowed. "_Alfred_," he walked up through the door first as I allowed him. "And I was only wondering how that place was –"

He froze, one bare foot on the grass, one on the wooden steps.

"Al..?"

He suddenly tipped over, flipping onto his back as he fell onto the soft tufts of green.

"Ha ha! Oh my God, it's _exactly _as soft as I imagined it! And it _tickles_!" He rolled around quite a bit, seeming to enjoy the experience.

I was curious. It was _only _grass…

He abruptly stopped as he rolled into flowers, sniffing each and every different kind. "And the flowers smell _awesome - _!" He hugged his baseball bat to his chest, that little grey bird-thing flying about him and chirping happily.

It was rather adorable, actually.

The light breeze blew through his golden hair, and his eyes snapped open in astonishment. "Oh my gosh, that feels _so _nice~" A serene smile came over him and his eyes closed in bliss – until he turned himself over and his hand splashed in a tiny stream. He gasped.

"It's cold… and crisp!" His – surprisingly – tanned hand splashed around in the water, a child-like joy radiating from him and, as I watched, I couldn't help but find it breath taking.

A butterfly landed on his cheek, and his eyes roamed curiously toward it, his hand creeping up from the water –

"Aw, man!"

It fluttered out of his grasp but he didn't miss a beat, bolting up and chasing after it, giggling the whole way. "Christ, I'm _running!_ It feels really good!"

I _never _thought I'd hear any person say that running felt good, but I supposed Alfred was just a little different from everyone else, what with the way he was taking just being outside.

He sped out of the clearing and into the forest.

I shook my head, chuckling, a happiness I rarely felt clutching my heart.

I heard the younger man shout, "My life has _finally _begun!" before I raced out to meet him.

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

**(1):** 'Simpatico', I've discovered, actually means "likable and easy to get along with; compatible". So. XXDD

I am _so _unsatisfied with this chapter.

I hope you guys like it, though. ;A; I updated faster! :DD


	5. Of Gilbirds and Mood Swings

_A/N:_

Okay, before I start off this chapter, lemme just say –

You guys are _amazing._

I'm completely serious.

Fifty-five reviews for only_ four_ chapters! Holy crap, what is _that_? It's _fantastic_, that's what! ;A;

That's about thirteen reviews per chapter! I'm _so _happy! TAT

And _so _many people have favorited the story and _me _as an author. I feel so special.

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO LOVES THIS STORY AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!

I love you all! A BUNCH! x3

**WARNING:** This story is BL. Boys' Love. Yaoi. Gay. MaleXmale. Don't like, _please _don't make an ass out of yourself by reading.

**DISCLAIMER:** I, Kingdomheartsforevs, owning Hetalia? _Or _Tangled? PFFT YEAH RIGHT OHMIGAWSH

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><p>"I can't believe I did this…"<p>

Alfred must have said that fifteen-bajillion times already, in dejected – mostly excited – tones. It was annoying Arthur to bits.

Then, of course, there were his abrupt mood swings.

"Oh my God. I'm a horrible person. My mom is going to _die _of complete and utter _shock_ when she finds out."

Moments later and he's frolicking through the clearing, screaming and giggling and jumping. "This is _so fuuuuun~!_"

And he'd stop abruptly, just standing there, gaze far away.

"I mean, what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right..? Oh, Jesus, I'm so horrible…"

Commence re-frolicking.

Then, he got the fantastic idea to climb a tree and just sit on a branch, staring into the distance, mumbling to himself.

Arthur strode up to the base of the tree, glaring up at the boy.

_God, I am _wasting _my time…_

"_Hey!_ Boy!" His voice sounded irritated, but the golden-haired teen barely turned his eyes to the Brit. "Stop acting so upset! I don't really know what idea is running rampant in your seemingly warring mind, but I seem to have caught a few things about it. Over-protective mother, forbade you from going to see your lights. But, just so you stop wasting our precious _time_," he took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly soon after and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Rebellion is _normal_. You're a bloody _teenager_. Will it hurt your mother? Yes. Does she deserve it? Probably not. But you are going to do it anyway – because you're an angsty teenage _blob_."

All of Alfred's attention was focused on the other man now, and he looked rather startled. Was Arthur trying to… _comfort _him?

_If so, he's failing. Horribly._

"'Angsty teenage blob?' What the..?"

"Adventure is _good_. Healthy, even." Arthur smiled maliciously. "Of course, when your over-protective mother discovers that you've gone on a road trip with a suspicious British man whose origins you are unsure of, she will most likely be _crushed_. Her heart will break into itty-bitty pieces."

Alfred's cerulean eyes went wide as they trained on the vicious emerald of Arthur's.

"Crush her? Break her heart..?" He clutched his chest, as if he could feel it happening. "Oh my God, what have I done..?"

The older man shook his head in faux sadness, clucking his tongue on the back of his teeth. "You know what, Alfred… I _am _a gentleman, after all."

Said boy's gaze turned questioning.

"I'm letting you out of our deal."

The Brit grinned at Alfred as if he'd just brought about world peace.

Alfred, however, looked scandalized. "_What_?"

"No need to thank me. Now get down from that tree; you're going home."

The boy clutched his bat to his chest, Tony snapping his beak together loudly.

"No!"

Arthur stood completely still, glare back full-force on what he thought was an idealistic child.

"_Pardonnez __moi__?_"**(1)**

"I am _seeing _those lanterns."

Arthur threw his arms up in frustration and gave a huff. "Come _on_, boy! I am trying to save you from a life of guilt here –"

"No, you just want your God damn satchel back."

The Brit flinched at the curse, once-vicious eyes now widened in surprise. He hadn't seen the boy as someone who cursed often – if at all.

"You're completely serious about this, aren't you?"

The boy jumped gracefully from the tree in a blur of gold, landing unscathed on his bare feet.

He simply shoved the tip of the bat in his counterpart's face, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You couldn't tell when I threatened you in the tower, pretty boy?"

Leaves on a nearby bush shifted and trembled, distracting Alfred and saving Arthur's "pretty boy" face. The seventeen-year-old nearly jumped out of his skin and ran behind Arthur, pointing the bat shakily at the offending plants.

"OH MY GOD, are they ghosts? Roughens? Thugs? Oh Jesus, what if they're… they're…" he leaned up rather close (too close for comfort) to Arthur's ear.

"_Zombies_?"

Arthur looked at him incredulously. "_What_?"

The bush ruffled violently this time, and the pair _knew _the beast was to show it's face now –

It was a fat, white rabbit.

Arthur sighed dejectedly, again pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stay calm. It can probably smell fear."

An extremely embarrassed Alfred tip-toed out from behind Arthur, staring at the rabbit. "S-sorry… made a lot of noise for a little critter, huh?" He laughed nervously.

Arthur had none of it and gave him an un-amused, blank look.

He unwaveringly stared at the younger man for a few many seconds before suddenly saying, "Are you hungry? I know a fabulous place we can go to for lunch."

"O-okay…"

The grouchy Brit stomped off ahead, leaving a flustered Alfred to stumble along behind him.

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><p>Gilbert Beilschmidt sighed, plucking a cute yellow bird - who had seemingly attached itself to his cranium - off of said body part and cupping the fluff in his hands. "You <em>really <em>wanna stick with me?"

The bird seemed to nod.

"Alright, fine. But you'd better help me look for this guy. Seriously, this is taking _way _too long…"

The bird gave a happy cheep, catching the man's attention again.

"You want me to _name _you?"

It nipped Gilbert's nose – otherwise, a firm "_Yes_."

"Uhm… well, that won't be easy, but… considering you're _my _bird now, and I'm totally awesome, I think I'll name you…"

The German paused to think. _Birdbert? Beilbird? Awesomesauce? Naw, all those are too eccentric…_

Suddenly, as if a light bulb was switched on above his head, he shouted, "Gilbird!"

The fluffy creature's little head tilted in question as if to say, "_Your reasoning?"_

Gilbert chuckled and patted his new companion of the head. "Well, duh. Gilbird sounds just like _Gilbert_. Except, you're a bird." He snickered, in true, immature, Gilbert fashion. "I'm just _too _awesome."

He plopped 'Gilbird' back onto his head, but before he even took his first step, a poster pegged on a nearby tree halted him.

He literally stomped over (like a five-year-old, might I add) and ripped the "WANTED: ARTHUR KIRKLAND" poster off the trunk – along with some poor bark that got caught in the crossfire – and tore it to shreds. He was none-too-happy about losing the criminal.

Gilbird pecked his head.

His mood swung drastically as he looked up - with a swoon-worthy smile on his face - past his forehead to see the little bird peering at him. "What is it, buddy?"

A fluffy yellow head jerked to his left.

Gilbert looked over, startled to find a woman in a black cloak quite a few paces away from him, her eyes wide and locked on his face.

"Uhm… can I help you, ma'am?"

Her eyes snapped even wider in realization, and she gasped quietly. "Alfred..!"

And she was off.

Gilbert quirked an eyebrow in her direction and snorted.

"That was freakin' _weird_."

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><p><em>Oh my God. What was that man doing in the forest?<em>

I ran as fast as my aging legs would carry me back to my tower, nervously, angrily glancing up at the high window placed near the top of it.

"Alfred! Alfred, sweetheart? Come to the window a moment, dearest!" My voice hinged on the edge of hysteria as I called to the boy, and my heart swelled with immeasurable rage and panic when he didn't show.

"_Alfred_! This isn't funny!"

I staggered to the entrance of the tunnel, only to find the wooden trap door thrown open and forgotten.

_No. No, no, no. This _cannot _be happening..!_

I ran down the steps, through the tunnel, and up the spiral staircase in record time, shoving the damn stone out of my way and climbing into the kitchen.

"Alfred! _Alfred!_"

I looked everywhere for the damn boy.

He had been stolen away from me, and I knew it.

"God _damn it!_"

I kicked over the table by the stairs and promptly smashed whatever contents upon it hadn't broken when it tumbled.

My hands flew into my hair, pulling and wrenching it about.

_I _need _him. No. NO!_

A bright light caught on my pupil, and I shouted in rage, swiftly walking to the first step of the stone stairs and stomping it in, only to find that the offending object was _not _something I wanted to see.

The prince's crown.

_The prince's. Fucking. Crown._

I swept it up, attempting to bend the golden metal out of shape, trying to break in the precious jewels – anything to quench my rage.

I abruptly stopped.

_I have to find him. I have to find him, no matter the cost. I am getting him back._

_And after I have him, he is never – _ever – _seeing the outside world again_.

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><p><em>AN:_

**(1): **French for pardon/excuse me. You guys could probably figure that out on your own, but... xD Yeah, I know Arthur hates Francis and France in general, but c'mon. You _know _he knows French. ;D

I'm unsatisfied with this chapter, too... ;(

I LOVE YOU GUYS THANKS A BUNCH OMFG. ;A;

Please review! I _love it _when you guys review!


	6. Of Brutes and Bar Fights WIP

_A/N:_

You guys.

_You guuuuuyyss._

I love you. I love you _so much_.

This is _the most _support I've ever had from _anyone _in my whole life. I'm so elated right now. I'm super serious – I'm _so friggin' happy ugh_.

Eighty-seven reviews.

…_Eighty. Seven. Reviews._

God damn, that's a _lot_! (I _really_ like italics, don't I?)

I feel _so badly _for not updating for so long. I'm so sorry, guys. I suck. A lot.

But just know that, for seriously:

I. Love. You. _Alllllll~._

Please, please, _please _continue being awesome. These reviews are making my life a happy place. (Did that make sense?)

This chapter's just a work in progress, because I fear that I am, somehow, losing interest in this story. But now that summer's here, I'll try to write a lot more!

I LOVE YOU GGUUUYYYSSSS.

**WARNING:** This story is BL. Boys' Love. Yaoi. Gay. MaleXmale. Don't like? _Please _don't make an ass out of yourself by reading.

**DISCLAIMER:** No own Hetalia or Tangled. Woof woof.

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><p>"I <em>know <em>it's around here _somewhere_."

Arthur had lead Alfred from the boy's in-the-middle-of-the-forest-nowhere tower and onto a tiny dirt road.

Alfred had his bat poised and ready, as always.

"Ah-ha! I've discovered the Lost World!"

Alfred snorted and quirked an eyebrow at the Brit. "What..?"

"_The Snuggly Duckling_." He gestured proudly with an ivory hand to the cute building in front of them. "Don't worry; it's very quaint - perfect for you. Wouldn't want you getting _scared _and giving up on this ridiculous endeavor, now, would we?"

His green orbs rolled skyward in an eye roll that the boy beside him didn't catch – nor did he catch the plain sarcasm in the thief's voice.

Alfred glared at his traveling companion. "Hey! I'm not scared _that _easily!" Then he turned away and mumbled, "Though, I _do _like ducklings…"

However, to his chagrin, the Brit caught his statement.

"Oh, _yay_! See, told you it was perfect."

And so, the two barged into the eatery, Alfred expecting nice music and good people, and Arthur knowing what was coming so well that he had an evil smirk planted on his face.

"Oh, _garçon__~! _Your finest table, please!"

Everyone seemed to completely stop what they were doing just to glare at them, and the soon-to-be eighteen-year-old let out an audible squeak.

They were all intimidating and grizzly looking; some had hooks, some had pet rats, most had missing teeth, many were bald, all of them huge…

And the actual _pub_; it was just made of the trees that had surrounded the lot.

_Who _does _that? Didn't Arthur say this place was _quaint_?_

Alfred aimed his bat at the closest ones to him, jumping nearly ten feet in the air when Arthur placed his hands firmly on his shoulders and directed him through the crowd of horrible men.

"_Smell_ that, Alfred. Take a nice, deep breath through the good old nose." He set an example, wheezing a bit afterwards. "Man smell, _really _bad man smell…"

The golden-haired boy didn't see the Brit's nose scrunch up in disgust behind him; he was too busy trying to figure out which over-sized man he'd have to whack over the head first.

Tony, who had been eerily quiet through their trip so far, took this moment to fly down Alfred's shirt.

"Overall, I'd suppose it smells much like the color brown." He leaned down to Alfred's ear, where he whispered, "_Your thoughts?_" before he felt a big hand on his hair.

_Oh my God, is one of them _touching me_?_

One of the burly men – a medium-sized (but still slightly taller than him), platinum blond man with lots of muscle and cold, blue eyes – was feeling his hair.

"Zis is such a strange color. And it's… soft?"

Alfred squeaked again, jumping away from the man's touch – only to here Arthur proclaiming loudly,

"_Alfie_, take a look at this gentleman's mustache!" He sounded so gleeful, it made Alfred sick to his stomach. "He has _blood _in his mustache! Why, my good sir, that is certainly a lot of blood~!"

The boy whimpered, gazing into the slightly malicious green eyes of Arthur.

Those eyes were so intense that, completely on accident, he backed into an _extremely _tall, muscled man with silver hair and childish-looking, violet eyes.

The creepy man seemed to have a black aura around him. "You will be good to remember your manners, da~?" The man practically growled in a heavy accent he didn't recognize.

Alfred swung his bat around to face the man, eyes wide and glazed.

"Oh, my," abruptly, Arthur took this situation as an opportunity to rub the fear in Alfred's face. "You're looking very pale, _Alfie_." The sarcasm was nearly _dripping _from his voice now, but Alfred was too petrified to place it. "Perhaps you should go home, if you're not feeling very well? This _is _a top-notch restaurant, you see, and if you can't handle it _here_, maybe you'd be better off in your tow –"

The Briton had been leading his counterpart to the door when, rather loudly, the door was slammed in their faces by a very tall blond man with glasses, his eyes cold and calculating, like the first man Alfred had encountered.

Said boy dove behind Arthur.

"Th's you?"

He pointed to a wanted poster on the door.

_WANTED: ARTHUR KIRKLAND_

_REWARD: XXX GOLD PIECES_

Arthur gulped and stared at the poster. Then, the man. Back to the poster…

He noticed one of the man's fingers was smack-dab on his forehead, covering his eyebrows.

He lifted the finger, displaying the "horrendous" adaptation of his "proud, English brows".

"By God, now they're just being _rude!_"

The medium-sized platinum blonde – _with a German accent_, Alfred noticed - stomped over eagerly. "Zis ist him, alright."

He gripped Arthur tightly by the neck of his shirt, pointing an outlandish pistol against the bottom of the thief's chin. "Your revard vill get me a new gun –"

"One moment, please~!" The creepy one – seemingly Russian – snatched Arthur up. "I would like some money, da~"

The very tall man who had rudely slammed the door on them re-appeared, plucking the thief out of the creepy man's arms.

"Th's 's my r'w'rd. I n'd the m'ney f'r my w'fe."

Suddenly, everyone in the pub was after Arthur, yelling and shoving at one another to get a grasp on him.

The Briton could have _sworn _he felt hands on his junk at one point.

However, the group grew tired of Arthur's feverish struggling, and the German reared back a fist –

A baseball bat made a loud _thunk _on his head.

"LEAVE. HIM. ALONE."

The crowd all turned toward the - seemingly small - golden-haired teen behind them, who was looking more worn-out by the second. He puffed out his chest with much needed air and said:

"Alright, I have absolutely _no idea _where I am and I need _him-_" he shoved a finger in Arthur's direction – "to take me to see the lanterns because I have been _dreaming _of seeing them _for real _for my _whole friggin' life!" _He took another big gasp of air. "Find your _humanity_, people! For God's _sake -_ haven't any of you ever had a dream?"

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><p>The German gave me the most threatening look I've ever received in my whole life.<p>

He pulled his gun from his belt, squared his shoulders, and strode leisurely toward me, his icy, blue eyes not once breaking the gaze he had on me.

As he approached, I realized that I was actually at least a few centimeters taller than him. That didn't make him any less intimidating. At all.

He finally came nose-to-nose with me, his eyes piercing into my soul.

I almost began to hyperventilate out of fear when he said, reminiscently:

"I had a dream, vunce." His face screwed up into a not-so-pleasant, kind of sad, look, and – without even looking where he was shooting – he pointed his gun, there was an ear-splitting _bang!_, and a bullet whipped past the tavern's very own one-man-band.

The poor, tiny man shook so hard and cried as he began playing his instruments. I felt badly for him.

"A _gut _story deserves adequate background music." The German sniffled. "I am burly, rude, and malicious, and violence-vise my hands… zey are not ze cleanest," he gestured to a large, dark stain on the ground. I didn't even want to know. "But, despite my deasly glare, and my temper, _and _my gun…" sad music played in the background.

"I've alvays vanted to be loved by someone elts." He sighed depressingly. "I had a lover, vunce. He vas ze most covardly, ignorant, lazy person I have ever known, but I loved him. And I vant him back!" He beat a clenched fist on a barrel beside us, obviously worked up. He turned and began to stomp away –

"Wait," I said, feeling an odd, weighted ache on my heart at his words. "I like your dream. You'll find someone, uh –"

"Ludvig. Ludvig Beilschmidt."

I smiled brightly at him. "Yeah, you'll find someone, Ludwig. It might be today, or tomorrow, or in a year, but you will. I can feel it."

A tentative hand rose in the now-audience of men. It was the scary-aura man with the kiddy smile. "As long as we are sharing, I would like to say that I am terrified of my baby sister, for she wants to marry me. However, one day, though I am quite scary, I hope my older sister will accept me and allow me to run away to her to a different country, far away." His odd, violet eyes gave off a warm glow as he thought of this older sister. "Sadly, she is quite terrified of me…"

The crowd grumbled agreements to her judgment.

"Well, Mister..?"

"Just call me Ivan, da?"

I smiled. "Yeah, sure. See, Ivan, you _can _be a little intimidating, but she's your sister – she loves you." I also gave a horrible shudder. "Though your little sister wanting to marry you is a little disturbing, and I'm not exactly sure how to handle that, so you're on your own."

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><p><em>AN:_

Yeah, so. Work in progress. -.-"

I'LL GET IT DONE, I SWEAR TO GOD!

I'VE BEEN SWEARING IT UP AND DOWN.

IT _WILL _HAPPEN!


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